Maybe Someday
by HermioneM
Summary: Takes place mid-OOTP. Ron and Hermione are assigned to decorate the Great Hall for Christmas. A little late, I know. Just read it. And review.


**A/N – ** I know Christmas is long past, but I wrote this before, and I just hadn't had the chance to upload it here.  It's been already on checkmated since before Xmas… Just give it a chance, it's never too for a little of Xmas joy, right?  Just tell me what you think. 

This takes place during OOTP.  Ron and Hermione are assigned to decorate the Great Hall for Christmas.  Not gonna say more. 

**Disclaimer: **Nothing.  Not even on Christmas. 

_You're unavoidable  
Simply irresistible  
And certainly you're kissable  
But next to you I'm way too shy  
And lose my back bone  
Leave my feelings unknown  
Play should've could've on my own  
Then I'm left to wonder why  
This is all so hard  
Letting down my guard  
It's all the same, it's you I blame  
But maybe that's not right  
  
So I'll blame gravity  
For always holding out on me  
When I just want to run away  
It trips me and I fall for you  
Makes perfect sense to me  
Lose responsibility  
Then every time I fail to see  
How easy this could be   
I can put the blame on gravity  
  
You're undeniable  
Truly unbelievable  
And certainly achievable  
If only I could speak my mind  
But I deliberate   
Simply things I complicate  
Then I think it's best to wait  
It happens to me all the time, yeah  
  
This is all so hard  
Letting down my guard  
It's all the same, it's you I blame  
But maybe that's not right  
  
There is something I must confess  
I was happy with loneliness, oh yeah  
Weightless is so easy to be  
Now I'm up in a different spin  
Out of control and completely into you  
So why put the blame on me  
When I can put the blame on gravity_

"Gravity" – Soul Decision __

"I don't know why we have to do this. I mean, it's not like someone's even gonna notice, anyway. And besides, what does this have to do with being a prefect?"

Ron heard Hermione sigh, and looked up at her. The girl ran her hand through her hair, while trying to keep balance. 

They had been assigned into decorating the Great Hall for Christmas, and to be honest, Ron wasn't really glad about it. He should be practicing right now, not hanging stupid plants from the ceiling. 

Plants that made people do certain things… certain things that Ron should not be thinking about while being with Hermione – alone. 

"Ron," Hermione said desperately, "stop complaining and hold the ladder tighter. It keeps moving and I don't want to fall and break my skull."

Ron rolled his eyes. "I was just making conversation," he muttered. 

"And your idea of conversation is complaining about everything?" she asked him, arching an eyebrow. 

"I don't complain about everything!"

"Yes, you do!" She chuckled. "About how cold the weather is, about how Harry is so grumpy lately--"

"You agreed with that!" he interrupted. Hermione ignored him. 

"—about Umbridge, about Fred and George, about Ginny having a boyfriend, about Flinch, about how cold the floor is, and about us having to decorate the Great Hall." She sighed. "You want me to go on? Because I could, you know."

"I got it," he said, grumpily. "Besides, Ginny is too young to be dating."

"No, she's not," Hermione replied automatically.

"Yes, she is."

"Ron, she's fourteen!"

"My point exactly."

Hermione stopped hanging the mistletoe for a moment and looked down at him. "Wouldn't it be, Ron, that you'd prefer she dated someone else?"

Ron looked at her, puzzled. "Like who?" 

"Like Harry," she said, shrugging. 

"What?!" In his surprise he almost let go of the ladder. It trembled for a moment before Ron caught in again. 

"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione yelled at him. "I could've fallen!"

"It was your fault!" Ron protested. "If you hadn't said such a…a… thing, I wouldn't've been so shocked to let it go in the first place." He made a disgusted face. 

Hermione laughed softly and continued doing her task. 

"What?" Ron asked. 

"Nothing," she said, shaking her head. 

"Hermione, tell me!"

She stopped again and turned around, sitting on the top of the ladder. "Well, maybe it would be weird for you if she dated Harry, but you wouldn't be so worried because you know him. He's your best friend; you know he wouldn't hurt her. Not intentionally, anyway."

Ron considered the matter for a moment. Maybe Hermione was right -- knowing Hermione it was very likely that she was right, she was always right. And, to be honest with himself, he had always thought that Harry would end up liking Ginny in that way someday. He did worry about his sister, but he wanted her to be happy too. And if Harry made her happy… But Harry didn't seem to see her under that light, and Ginny didn't seem to mind, anyway. 

He shrugged. "I still think she shouldn't date until she's at least thirty." 

Hermione laughed, stood up and continued hanging the plants. 

"Really, Ron," she said after a moment. "You didn't actually think she was never going to date."

Ron shrugged. "I dunno."

"And anyway, Harry fancies Cho," Hermione continued casually. 

Ron thought about it. He had known that his friend had had a crush for the pretty dark-haired girl since third grade, even if Harry had never admitted it openly. Hermione had told him millions of times, but Ron was just too blind to see it. It was only until this year that Harry's growing feelings for the girl had been more obvious and undeniable. 

"Do you reckon she likes him back?" Ron asked the brunette. 

"Cho? I guess. I can't really tell. I mean, maybe she does but with everything that happened last year… Cedric dying… And well, Harry's been so angry, and he has a lot in his mind."

"I wish he'd stop blaming us, though," Ron muttered. 

Hermione turned to look at him, a sweet look covering her beautiful cinnamon eyes. Something jumped inside of Ron's chest. 

"Me too," she said, sitting down again. "But we're his friends, Ron. And right now, that's everything he has. We have to be there for him, that's the only thing we can give him."

"But we _are_ there for him! And he knows it, why can't he just stop taking it out on us?"

"I don't know. He's going through so much, and we don't even know half of it. And us going to Sirius's at summer without him and being chosen prefects just made him angrier. I think he's been feeling left out."

Ron had to admit to himself that that was true. They had been leaving Harry out of things lately… but he had just become so difficult to handle. Ron felt a little guilty about that – Harry had been the first friend he ever had and, besides Hermione, the best. But that didn't necessarily mean that he regretted it. He quite enjoyed spending time with Hermione, just the two of them. 

It made butterflies fly in his stomach whenever she was watching him – the way she was now – like he was the only one in this Earth, the only one that mattered. He wanted to hold her near and never let her go. And that kiss she had given him before the match – wow. It made him feel funny, but in a good way. He felt fuzzy inside. 

But it also worried him. He was not a complete fool, he knew what these feelings meant, what kind of feelings they were. The kind he shouldn't be developing for Hermione. 

Not when there were more important matters at hand. Not when he should be focusing in the team, and in his O.W.L.S., not when Harry needed them so much. 

But he couldn't help himself. He sighed a looked down. And anyway, it wasn't as she felt the same way for him.

When he looked up again, Hermione was already hanging the remaining mistletoes. 

"Alright," Hermione said. "We've finished this corner. Now we only have that other one, and we're done."

She climbed down the ladder, the small basket filled with mistletoes in her hand. 

"We still have to do another one?" Ron complained. 

"Oh, come _on_, Ron. _You_'re not doing anything, I'm the one hanging everything," she said, while walking alongside him to the other part of the hall. 

"I'm holding the ladder."

"And what a difficult task it must be," Hermione said sarcastically. 

"Why didn't they make Malfoy do it?"

"He's sweeping the snow off the entrance, would you rather do that?"

He shook his head. 

"Then stop complaining."

"It's just that I'd rather do something else," he said. 

"Like what?" Hermione asked, while putting the ladder in position. 

Ron shrugged. "Practice."

Hermione looked a little hurt. She bit her lower lip and closed her eyes quickly, avoiding his. 

Had she really been hurt by his comment, or had he just imagined it? Maybe it was his mind, playing tricks on him. He wanted Hermione to want to be with him so bad, that maybe he made himself believe she did. 

But did she really?

Hermione sighed and started climbing the stairs. Ron handed her the basket. 

"Look, Ron, I know you hate being a prefect, but it's only hanging the mistletoes. You can go as soon as we finish," she snapped rather coldly. 

"I don't _hate_ being a prefect," he whispered grumpily.

Hermione laughed dryly. "Of course you do! It's like a great dishonor to you, and you're always complaining because Fred and George keep teasing you."

"No, it's not." He shrugged. "And it got me my new broom."

Ron could swear he heard Hermione rolling her eyes, but she didn't say anything. Maybe she did think he hated being a prefect – and maybe that _did_ hurt her. 

"I really don't hate being a prefect, Hermione."

"Look, Ron, you don't have to say that to make me feel better. I know this is a position you didn't ask for, and although it made your parents incredibly happy, I know that you like being keeper way better. So stop pretending." Hermione's voice cracked at the end a little, and she refused to look at Ron in the eyes.

"I'm not just saying that. Why would I lie to _you?"_

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. You do it all the time, don't you?"

"No, I don't."

Hermione didn't answer that. 

Minutes passes slowly, quietly. Ron was racking his brains to find something to talk about and, apparently, so was Hermione. But neither was talking. 

Maybe Ron had screwed up with his comment about wanting to be somewhere else. But he hadn't meant it. He was just trying to make conversation, or seem interesting – or something. Apparently it _had_ gotten to Hermione. But that had been the last thing Ron wanted. He truly liked being a prefect; he liked the feeling of power and importance that it gave him. The respect, the feeling of worthiness. Plus, he got to spend a lot of time with Hermione. 

"So," Hermione said suddenly, awkwardly. 

Ron looked up at her. "What?"

"Er… so, why don't you want Ginny dating?"

Ron was taken aback by the sudden change of subject, but he didn't mind it. He didn't think he could stand one more minute of that uncomfortable silence. 

He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I just don't want her to get hurt or something," he admitted. 

Hermione smiled to herself. "So what are you going to do when she gets her first broken heart? Beat the poor guy up?"

Ron laughed. "That's a good idea!"

"Ron!" Hermione laughed, shaking her head. "Honestly, it's normal for you to get a little, or maybe a lot, brotherly jealous – _I_ should know it – but it's something she's going to have to experience by herself."

Ron opened his mouth to answer, when Hermione's words hit him. What had she meant? 

"What did you mean,_ you_ should know it?" he said, blushing.

Hermione seemed to realize what she had said, and blushed as well. "Well," she said nervously. "Like last year… you got all overprotective with me… because of Viktor and how old he was." She said all of it quickly, although Ron thought he heard hesitation in her voice. 

Ron was surprised by this. She didn't seriously think that it was brotherly feelings what he felt for her, did she? Yes, he had been jealous at last year's Ball. But it had nothing to do with him being concerned about her (which of course he was), but he had been angry. Angry that she had gone with some older, obviously more experimented guy, which, by the way, was an international Quidditch player… and not with him.

He had really blown it that night. For him, for Parvati's sister (he couldn't even remember the girl's name) and especially for Hermione. Fighting with her like that, embarrassing her in the middle of the Common Room, just because he hadn't had the guts to do what he should have done: ask her first. 

"I'm sorry," he blurted suddenly. 

Hermione turned around, surprise written on her face. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "That I ruined that night for you."

"Oh." Hermione blushed. "Well…you didn't."

"Oh?"

She bit her lip in a nervous way. "I mean, of course fighting with you was… well, bad. But I still had a good time."

Ron's heart sunk. "Oh. Well, I'm glad."

Hermione smiled weakly and continued hanging. "Hold the ladder tight, Ron. This one's really high and I can barely reach it."

Ron did what he was told. "Are you sure you don't want me to do it? I mean, I'm taller, I can reach it easily."

Hermione shook her head. "Don't be ridiculous. I almost got it."

The petite brunette stood on the tip of her feet, trying to reach the place where the mistletoe should be. She balanced carefully, managing to hang it.

"Aha! There, I did it!" she said triumphal.

But just then, somehow, she lost her balance. She trembled quickly before losing control completely and falling down. 

She screamed and closed her eyes, expecting to crash at any second. 

But she didn't. 

She opened her eyes to see a pair of blue ones staring back at her. Ron had caught her. 

Ron held her carefully, looking deep inside of that pair of that scared brown eyes. 

Hermione tried to order her heart to stop jumping so quickly. 

"Ron? How did--?"

"Keeper reflexes, I guess," he said, shrugging. 

"Thanks," she said. A quick blush covered her cheeks. "Ron… you can put me down now."

Ron just held her tighter. 

"Hermione?"

"Y-Yes?" she stuttered nervously. Ron was looking her in a way she had never seen before. It scared her. It scared her and thrilled her all at once.

"Last year, at the ball, I _was_ jealous." He took a deep breath. "But not in the same way I'd be jealous of Ginny's boyfriends."

Hermione looked confused. Then her eyes widened and realization drowned on them. Her lips draw a small and perfect 'o'.

Hermione avoided Ron's eyes. Something was jumping happily in her heart… she wanted to sing and dance. But an alarm bell was also ringing in her head. Something that told her this was not the time… but that time would come. 

Trying to look at everywhere but him, her eyes traveled to something above Ron's head. He followed her gaze with his eyes. There it was: the mistletoe that she had just hung above them, swinging quickly in the same rhythm Ron's heart was beating. 

He could not take it anymore. 

He was still holding Hermione, she wasn't going anywhere. He started leaning closer to her face. Hermione tensed in his arms, but as he got closer she relaxed, as if longing for what was to come. 

He saw her eyes half close. His chest ached with anticipation. He was finally going to do it. 

He brushed his lips softly against hers and pressed lightly. 

It was just a second before the sound of footsteps coming quickly through the hallways leading to the Hall broke them. 

Ron let go of Hermione, whom quickly looked away blushing furiously. He was sure he was blushing too. Hermione put her hands in her pockets, looking everywhere but Ron. 

Ron, in the other hand, couldn't take his eyes off of her. Had he really kissed Hermione? 

He touched with his finger his lips lightly and smiled. He really had kissed Hermione. And although it had been a brief moment, it had been the most wonderful thing he had experienced this year. 

Or more like ever.

He shot a quick glance at Hermione, who still was looking anxiously at the door. 

"Look, Hermione—" he started oddly. He didn't know what he was going to say. He didn't know what he wanted to say. Just… something. Something to make things better, something to ease the awkwardness. 

Hermione turned to look at him, the blush still bright on her cheeks. Her face didn't hold any emotion Ron could read. 

"Yes?"

Ron took a deep breath. The palm of his hands had started sweating suddenly; he cursed under his breath. 

But he never got to say what he wanted. The footsteps grew louder, until they were inside the Great Hall, with them. 

"Oh, my God! Guys, this place looks amazing," the soft voice of Hannah Abbot said. 

"Yeah. It must've taken you ages," Ernie McMillan added. 

Hermione smiled at them, still a bit flushed. "Thanks."

"I can't believe they made you do it all by yourself," Ernie said.

"Padma was supposed to help us, but she's got a terrible flu and Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let her," said Hermione shrugging.

"Oh, yeah. I saw Parvati and Lavender going to visit her a while ago," Hanna said. 

"Yes. Well, at least it's finished now," Hermione commented causally, shooting a quick glance at Ron. 

"Well, be glad that you didn't have to clean the entrance with Malfoy and Parkinson. They're a nightmare, those two," Ernie said, rolling his eyes. 

Hanna smirked. "He's mad because they wouldn't help us clean."

"Well, wouldn't you be?"

Hermione kept chatting with the two prefects, but Ron was only half listening. 

What was he going to do now? What were _they_ going to do now? He couldn't just go on, pretending he had not done what he had just done. 

He looked to Hermione. She was staring at him, but when she saw he had noticed, blushed quickly and looked away. 

After about ten minutes of staring into space, Ron noticed some movement around him. 

"Ron?" Hermione was asking him. The look on her face told him that she had been calling him for a long time. 

"What?" 

"We're going," she said, not looking him straight in the eyes. "Are you coming?"

"Eh… no," he said, shaking his head. "I'll catch up with you later."

Hermione nodded and gave him a little smile, before blushing.

Ron slid down the wall and let himself fall on the cold floor. He had a lot of thinking to do. 

And maybe someday he would stop just _thinking_… and he would begin to _feel_. 

**A/N – **So?? How did you like it? I'm not too sure I like it that much, so I need reassurance. _Please_, review. 


End file.
